Creative Corner

This is the tracking thread for my personal clan mythos. Herein you will find writing related to this challenge.

Rules outlining the nature of the mythos game/rp/whatever can be found here.

Eventually this will have a nice header and everything probably, but for now, expect just a writer's index.

Content warnings to include eventual disturbing themes as is the nature of something based on the Silent Hill mythos.

1. The Beginning

5 of 21 Sacraments Completed.

Holy Mother not yet resurrected.

There's something not quite right with this one. Maybe it's something in her eyes, the way they don't quite track movement, or the way one is slightly darker than the other. Maybe it's something in her gait - slow and lilting at it's natural pace. Those who've seen her run haven't lived to talk about it. Those that do talk talk about the devastation she's survived - a clan wrought by death. The cause varies, based on who's telling the story. It's like a urban legend, except there really is a survivor.

She doesn't talk about it.

What she does talk about doesn't really make a lot of sense. She mumbles about a ritual. If you ask her the details, she won't tell you. If you ask her much of anything, she won't tell you. She might not even hear you, and if she does, the mumbling stops, a cloudy look of recognition comes through her eyes for a moment - Oh, another dragon. How quaint, she thinks. But she doesn't say anything.

The ritual is called the 21 Sacraments. It's a drawing down of a deity. A ritual of resurrection with a cost. 21 sacrifices to the Shadowbinder to bring about the resurrection of the Holy Mother, who would grant her life eternal and grant her wishes.

Oh, what a tangled web we weave.

The first sign: And God said: "At the time of fullness, cleanse the world with my rage. Gather forth the White Oil, the Black Cup, and the blood of the Ten Sinners. Prepare for the Ritual of the Holy Assumption."

She will do this. She will bathe in the blood of her enemies, cleansing the world with the rage of the Shadowbinder. Woe be to anyone in her path. She will gather the blood of ten exalts and send them to serve under the Shadowbinder, bound to him through death. They will serve him eternally, their souls unable to pass on. Their blood will fill the cup until it runneth over. Their hearts, she will lay out on her altar, kept fresh with magic taught to her by the same one who taught her the ritual.

The Second Sign: And God said, "Offer the Blood of the Ten Sinners and the White Oil. Be then released from the bonds of the flesh, and gain the Power of Heaven. From the Darkness and Void, bring forth Gloom, and gird thyself with Despair of the Giver of Wisdom.

She must shed her own flesh, and so she shall. However, she will not die like those who have come before. If she does, however, her spirit will pass on into a new body, and the ritual will start again. She has ensured her reincarnation with sigils and spells. The Holy Mother will be resurrected.

With her flesh shed, her body will change, her power will change.

And there will be more sacrifices:
Darkness.
Void.
Gloom.
Despair.

Four more sacrifices that will pave the way. When she meets them, she will know. And they will die.

When she finds him, she will take his Wisdom and store it away for he who will receive it. A fifth sacrifice; a fifteenth sacrifice.

The Third Sign: And God said: "Return to the Source, through sin's Temptation. Under the Watchful eye of the demon, wander alone in the formless Chaos. Only then will the Four Atonements be in alignment."

Although she has carved out a new home, she must return to the Wispwillow Grove. There, she is sure, she will find one - a survivor like her; her next sacrifice. But is that the Source, or Temptation? She will know when she encounters them.

She's not clear on much after this. Something about demons and chaos. Still, there will be four more sacrifices under this sign, totaling ninteen sacrifices in all.

The Last Sign: And God said, separate from the flesh too, she is who is the Mother Reborn and he who is the Receiver of Wisdom. If this be done, by the Mystery of the 21 Sacraments, the Mother shall be reborn and the Nation of Sin shall be redeemed.

Under the last sign, there will be two last sacrifices - the reincarnation of the Holy Mother and the Receiver of Wisdom.

The Holy Mother cannot be confined to an earthly body. Although she has been reborn this way, she will never awaken and her power will never be realized. Only by sacrificing her reincarnation to the Shadowbinder can she be purified and resurrected properly.

The twenty-first and final sacrifice will Receive the Wisdom from Fifth: He who was the giver. She will be the intermediary, delivering the message in blood.

When all of this is done and the Holy Mother resurrected, her new clan will be free of the torment her former clan was cursed with and she will start anew as the leader of this perfectly devoted clan. She, and by extension they, will serve the Shadowbinder fully and completely from their newly earned honorable place at his side. They will serve the Holy Mother as his intermediary, and they will be protected.

There's a whispering behind her, a presence. She feels it multiplying, but it can't be helped. These aren't the hearts she's looking for. Yes, she supposes, there may be ten of them, but they're just all wrong. They're not sinners, their hearts aren't filled with hatred. She can't use them. Let them set up camp in the back of the clearing she made, she won't stop them.

This one, though, there's something about him. She can't put a claw on what it is, exactly, but she lets him stay near her as she works to clear space. When she goes out to hunt, he follows her, gives her support. She lets him. They don't speak much, though his little head frill ripples constantly in the way that his kind often does. She doesn't understand it. She isn't really trying to figure it out, either.

Bringing back their haul to camp, they settle down for the night. The whispers move closer, rustling and breathing. They're as unaffected by her presence as she is by theirs, although they seem to be seeking shelter here. Maybe, when it's time, Mother will tell he what to do about them. Whether to invite them to venerate her or chase them off or purify them. Mother will know what to do. Mother always knows what to do.



[[ Those newbie freebies only come once, so I've partitioned the lair and stuck the inactive dragons in the front behind Assumption. I guess she knows they're there.

Thanks to everyone who has been so kind with newbie freebies - dragons, familiars, apparel, food, treasure, etc. I even got a chest! You guys are all so great. I feel really welcomed and I'm very happy to finally get this little project off the ground! This makes me feel a lot better about not really floating Nano much this year for sure!

That horrendous random progen dragon, though. Let's cover him with apparel and pretend he's not so awful! There, a cute little hat. He's almost growing on me now. ;) ]]

Two hatchlings were born, though the first lay dead in its nest. No matter. The living one would provide the first sacrifice for mother. Several days later, when it was old enough to wander out, she took it to the training fields to strengthen it before it was sacrificed.

The First Heart was sacrificed today, beginning her down the path of the holy sacraments.

Out in the field, she stumbled across two abandoned Snapper hatchlings. Gifts, she decided, from the Holy Mother for sacrifice. These would be the second and third hearts, trained in the same way before being sacrificed for the ritual.

Bathed in the blood of her own, she stumbled back to her clearing where her adoptive mate cared for her in her exhaustion until she was ready to train the next. He knew not what she did - could not understand. He only knew that she had gone out with their offspring and returned covered in blood with two vagabond babies to care for.

He worried their parents would come looking for the babies. He worried that the loss of one baby lay heavily on her, but that two hatchlings would prove too much. He had no idea what was in store and that by proximity, he too, was in danger of being a sacrifice.

In turn, the second and third hearts were sacrificed, each taking it's toll on her psyche and her physical strength. There would have to be a lull between the third and fourth - the act of sacrifice was proving too much. She curled up tightly to rest, the tiny fae flitting here and there, fretting over her. Foolish though he was, the act touched her heart. She respected his effort - he must have been sent by God herself to watch over her as she performed the ritual to keep her alive and well enough to do what must be done.

She must build her strength, gather food and resources. The little fae has been bringing her things as she rests, but she is ready to take care of herself. She trudges out into the forest, scorched and barren, picking fights with any of the beast clan that look at her crosseyed. The tiny fae follows at her heels, his wingbeats fast to make up for her gait. Her claws and his magic work well together and soon the two of them have secured plenty of supplies and food.

She checks on her eggs - tiny hatchlings have emerged now. When they are a bit larger, they will accompany her to the field to be strengthened before becoming the next sacrifices.

The visitor, Inca, left two eggs behind. Were they his? She doesn't know. He wasn't welcome here, and she did her best to make that clear. He left quickly, but their names were known to her when they hatched. Salt and Circle. Thistle, a third, was there in the morning, but gone when she came back from gathering food.

First the training. They must know sorrow to harden their hearts, as must she - to hatch them, raise them to a fighting age, train them, they will form some kind of bond, no matter how she steels herself against it. The worst is when they are named like these two.

First one, then they other. They are trained, and then sacrificed as the fourth and fifth hearts. There is another that wandered in alongside Salt and Circle. The siblings call the third one trill. She calls her Six in her mind - the sixth heart to be exalted. It's still too close to a nickname. It will hurt her to send these three on, but it must be done. Not yet, though. Six is holding her own in the face of conflict. She could be useful a bit longer.

Tired, she returns to her nest to rest. Six and the little fae rest near her, a temporary family. She is getting too attached. It's worrisome.

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